


It was Hell

by ElemyT



Series: There Are Too Many Ideas In My Head! [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Character Death, Cranks (Maze Runner), Stiles Stilinski is Thomas (Maze Runner)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:07:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22347682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElemyT/pseuds/ElemyT
Summary: "You ready?" said Stiles, as a figure appeared in the distance.Minho grinned. "Hell yeah!"
Series: There Are Too Many Ideas In My Head! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608655
Comments: 1
Kudos: 207





	It was Hell

Stiles rolled out of bed, onto the floor and groaned. Another day of school. He pulled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie, tucking his gun into the back of his jeans. He never left the house without it. Just in case he saw a crank or someone from W.C.K.D. He grabbed an apple on the way out and climbed into his jeep. He paused for a second. He had a funny feeling in his gut. He pulled out his gun and checked how many bullets he had then just in case he went back inside and grabbed a knife from the kitchen. He stowed it away beneath the drivers seat and then drove to school. He pulled up in the car park and climbed out, meeting Scott at the entrance. 

  
"Hey," he said, glancing around, looking for threats. 

  
"Hey," said Scott. "Something wrong?" 

  
"I've just got a bad feeling about today," said Stiles, fingering his gun, nervously. 

  
"Well come on," Scott opened the door. "We've got Chemistry first." 

  
They sat down in the chemistry lab and pulled out their books. Stiles stared out the window, his mind wondering. 

  
He had been kidnapped by W.C.K.D. when he was twelve and put into the maze when he was fifteen. When he had jumped into 'paradise' he apparently just jumped into another W.C.K.D. facility. He had been there for about five minutes when the FBI had stormed the place and gotten him and Minho and Jorge and Brenda and all of the Gladers and girls from Group B out of there. Wicked had been shut down and their memories had been restored. Then he had been sent home. He could remember before his memories had been wiped someone from W.C.K.D. had come to his house pretending to be from a fancy school. Apparently Stiles had won a scholarship and that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Of course he had taken the offer and was sent to W.C.K.D. When he came back he didn't tell his Dad or Scott or anyone about what had really happened. He didn't want to scare them. It was as if he had never left. Then Scott was bitten by a werewolf and he was thrown into the world of the supernatural. 

  
"Mr Stilinski!" yelled Mr Harris. 

  
Stiles jolted and quickly scanned the room for threats (out of habit). "Huh! Sorry. What was the question?" 

  
"Mr Stilinski. Can you tell us the answer to the question on the board?" 

  
Stiles looked at the black board. 

  
"Who invented the periodic table used in science today?" 

  
"Henry Mosely," said Stiles. "He improved upon Dmitri Mendeleev's version of the Periodic table. The differences are that Mendeleev's table was order in increasing atomic mass not increasing atomic number as used today. Mendeleev's table also had gaps for elements that had not been discovered yet and there were less periods and groups that today's Periodic table."

  
Mr Harris seemed shocked that Stiles was able to rattle all of that off and was about to say something when the bell rang and the class quickly up and left. 

  
Scott and Stiles went into the boy's locker rooms and quickly changed into their gym kit, hurrying out to the lacrosse pitch to where Coach Finstock was waiting. 

  
"Ok!" yelled Coach. "Today we're doing suicide runs! Put your hand down Greenberg. You know the course. Start now!" He blew the whistle and the class took off. Stiles grinned as he ran, pulling ahead of the rest of the group. This was one thing he missed about the maze. He felt free whenever he was running. Like nothing could touch him. 

  
By the end of the class, most of the group had passed out on the ground. Scott, Issac and the werewolves were breathing heavily but Stiles just took a deep breath, grinned and then ran off to get changed. 

  
Everyone stared as he ran off, not seeming fatigued at all. 

Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Allison and Issac left the school and all drove into the woods to the old Hale house. Derek had insisted that they all go to the house after school, saying that he needed their help, clearing some of the rubble away. 

  
They were working away when the werewolves suddenly stopped, looking around. 

  
"What's wrong?" asked Stiles. 

  
"Gun fire," said Issac. "Coming This way." 

  
Lydia seemed to freeze and she was staring around her. "Someone's going to die." 

  
The werewolves left the house and stood, on guard ready for a fight. Stiles stepped out with them and strained his ears for a sound. His stomach lurched when he heard a familiar voice say, "Come and get me you shanks!" 

  
"Lydia!" he called, pulling out his gun. "Go to my jeep. Beneath the drivers seat is a knife. Stay there until it's safe." 

  
Lydia nodded and ran to climb into the jeep. 

  
"Is that a gun?" asked Allison, coming out of the house too, crossbow in hand. 

  
Stiles nodded, scanning the trees for anything. 

  
"I can smell something," said Scott. "Smells like death." 

  
Stiles heart skipped a beat. "Derek! Go up into one of the trees. When they're here, jump down behind them. Scott and Issac do the same on the left and right. And whatever you do, don't let them bite you. Oh and Scott!" Scott looked at his best friend who had a hard look on his face. "Kill them. Don't hesitate. If you don't kill them, they'll kill you."

  
Derek glared at Stiles. "Who are you to tell us what to do?" 

  
Stiles scoffed. "I'm the one who knows what I'm doing. Hopefully it's not what I think it is. But if it is you will die a horrible horrible death." 

  
Derek glared and still didn't move. 

  
"Derek, I swear!" said Stiles, losing his temper. "If you don't get your shucking ass into one of the trees now, I will feed you to a griever." 

  
"Derek," said Scott. "Do as he says." 

  
Derek grunted and then climbed into a tree and sat there sulking. Scott and Issac did the same. 

  
"Allison," said Stiles, turning off the safety as he heard the unmistakable sound of screaming cranks. "Stay as far away from them as you can. If they bite you and your not immune it will kill you." 

  
Allison nodded and armed her crossbow. 

  
Stiles looked through the tree and saw a boy come running into the clearing. "Minho!" he called, stepping out of the shadows. 

  
"Thomas!" cried Minho, grinning. "Am I glad to see you. I've been looking everywhere."

  
"Cranks?" said Stiles, hearing the the noises again. 

  
"About twenty," said Minho. "They kind of just appeared behind me." 

  
"I've got three friends in the trees," said Stiles. "Ready to block them in, one friend in my jeep, with a knife, because she can't fight. And Allison here with her crossbow. You got a gun?" 

  
Minho pulled a pistol out of the back of his jeans. "Take it everywhere." 

  
"You ready?" said Stiles, as a figure appeared in the distance. 

  
Minho grinned. "Hell yeah!" 

  
As the cranks came running into the clearing, Stiles, Minho and Allison opened fire and the werewolves dropped down from the trees and began to fight off the gruesome creatures.   
Issac howled in pain as one of the creatures bit down on his ankle. 

  
Soon all of the monsters lay dead on the floor. Stiles sprinted over to where Issac was sat on the ground, examining the bite. 

  
"Why isn't it healing?" Issac asked, looking at Derek. 

  
"Because your not immune," said Stiles, dropping to his knees next to him. He ripped his shirt and tied the material around the bite. "Minho, you got a vile?"

  
"Yeah," said Minho, handing a vile of bright blue liquid to his friend. 

  
Stiles took the tiny vile and he handed it to Issac. "Drink it." 

  
"What?" said Issac, incredulously. "You want me to drink this? What does it even do?" 

  
Stiles nodded. "You look like your going to klunk your pants. You will drink that vile unless you want to become a crank." 

  
Issac looked down at the monster that lay near to them and swallowed. He raised the vile to his lips and drained it quickly. "Eurgh!" 

  
Stiles nodded in satisfaction then turned to Minho. "What the shuck are you doing here, you slinthead?!" 

  
"I was looking for you, you shank!" Minho cried. "I haven't heard from you in years!" 

  
"I've been a bit busy," said Stiles, pointing at Scott who looked surprised. "Trying to keep this shank from killing himself." 

  
"You two know each other?" asked Lydia. 

  
Stiles nodded. He was about to yell at Minho again when one of the cranks suddenly stood up again. It appeared to be more in its mind than the rest and pulled out a gun from nowhere. It aimed at Lydia and fired. Minho darted forward and pushed her out of the way. The bullet imbedded itself into Minho's chest, just above his heart. 

  
Stiles grabbed his gun and fired three shots. 

  
One in the leg. 

  
One in the stomach. 

  
One in the head. 

  
The monster fell to the ground, twitching. Stiles ran to Minho's side examining the wound. 

  
"Scott call an ambulance!" he cried. "Now!" 

  
Scott pulled out his phone quickly and dialled 911, stepping away from the group for a bit of quiet. 

  
Stiles put pressure on the gun shot and looked down at his friend. "Hey, Minho! Minho! Look at me! I need you to stay awake!" 

  
Minho smiled lazily. "It's ok, Thomas. I'm not scared. I miss Newt and Alby and Frypan. Shuck, I miss Gally!" 

  
"No," said Stiles, firmly. "Minho your not dying! Your going to be fine!" 

  
"It's ok, Tommy," said Minho, quietly, still smiling. "I'll say hi to Chuck for you." 

  
"No," said Stiles as Minho closed his eyes. "No!" He sobbed. "Minho, wake up! Wake up! I can't lose you too, Minho. Wake up!" 

  
Lydia kneeled beside Stiles and pulled him into a hug as he sobbed. "How did you know each other?" 

  
Stiles shook his head, still sobbing. 

  
"Stiles," said Derek, harshly. "Who is he? What are these things? Why do you have a gun? And what the hell is going on?" 

  
Stiles began to calm down as he glared at Derek, who seemed to squirm under his gaze. "He was the only friend I had left from that place." 

  
"What place?" asked Scott. 

  
Stiles looked at his friend. "You remember when I was twelve I got accepted into that fancy school?" 

  
Scott nodded, confused. 

  
Stiles looked down at Minho's body, a dark look on his face, his eyes haunted. "It wasn't a school. It was Hell."


End file.
